


forgive me (for I have sinned)

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Episode: s01e15 Yes Men, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was supposed to protect her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forgive me (for I have sinned)

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** There is no graphic discussion or depiction of the rape that occurred in the episode, but it is treated as such ~~instead of as a sexist joke~~. Also, since the circumstances of the rape have changed (most definitely for the worse), you can find a more spoilery warning in the end notes.

After the last two days, after the fight in the lounge, after May had the nerve to- The point is, after all of it, Grant really wants to sleep. It’s not something he lets himself crave even when he needs it - sleep is a luxury he can’t often afford - but tonight? Hell yeah he wants it. So the sound of footsteps padding straight for his door is absolutely unwelcome. The person those footsteps belong to however…

Well, he’s not actually sure which side of that line she falls on. There’s part of him holding his breath waiting to see if she knocks and there’s part of him holding his back to the door so she’ll think he’s asleep if she dares open it.

When the seconds tick by and she finally turns away, welcome wins out and he finds himself up and in the doorway before he can think better of it.

“Simmons.”

She flinches. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” she says with all the dignity she can muster. And it’s Simmons so it’s a lot. “I was just going to bed.”

She’s been in bed for three hours now and even if he pretends she got up and went to the bathroom, her bunk’s across the hall. Stopping in front of his door was a pretty big detour for someone stumbling around in the middle of the night.

He thinks about going back to bed like she wants him to, about offering to make them some breakfast, about going down to the cargo bay and working out so she can have her run of the lounge if she’d rather avoid him…

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says finally. He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to talk to someone I’ve-” He closes his eyes, not wanting to think about it even though it’s the only thing he can think about. The smell and taste of her, the sounds she made, they’ve been running through his head for hours like some computer virus that keeps giving him porn pop-ups.

She half-faces him and follows it up with a half a smile. “You’ve spoken to women after sex before, surely.”

“Yeah, but I never raped anyone before.” And there it is. He’s finally managed to say it. He couldn’t back in Coulson’s office earlier. Oh, he got the gist of it out but he couldn’t make himself say _that word_.

Simmons flinches again at the sound of it, but then she does the damnedest thing: she steps closer and actually _touches_ him of her own free will. “You didn’t,” she says.

He laughs harshly. It might be in danger of turning into real hysterics, except her hand is burning his bare arm and he’s afraid she might burn him up if he’s not careful.

She presses closer. “You _didn’t_ ,” she insists. “Or, if you did, then I- I did you as well.” At least one of them has the decency not to say it, but it doesn’t make her any less wrong.

“No.” He shakes his head, stepping back while her head is bowed and her eyes aren’t holding him in place. “No, I-”

“ _She_ raped us,” Simmons says, suddenly angry. “Both of us. What we did to each other, that was-” She shakes her head. “That was all her.”

On the face of it, she’s right. Lorelei made them want her and she made them do the things they did in that hotel room. But whatever the cause, it doesn’t change the fact that twenty-four hours ago Grant was fucking Simmons and she was in no state to consent.

“Okay,” he says, just for something to say, and heads into the lounge while he can.

But just like he followed her when she didn’t want him to, she follows him now. He can hear her bare feet padding along the carpet and he hates it because it reminds him of that sex drunk look on her face when Lorelei ordered her to come like she was some fucking dog. And that in turn only makes him think of the look he must’ve had on his own face whenever that bitch gave him an order. He enjoyed the things he did for her, _to_ her … to Simmons.

He tries to outrun the memories and doesn’t stop until he’s around the first curve in the cargo bay stairs and Simmons barks out his name. Because he’s an ass, he looks up at her through the steps and railings instead of coming back up to join her. She takes one step back towards the door to the lounge, trying to put as much of the height out of her view as possible.

He is such an ass.

“I know you think it’s your fault-” she begins and he cuts her off.

“I should’ve protected you.”

She shakes her head. “If we’re going to go down that road, then you might as well blame Sif for not realizing her compulsion worked differently on humans, that it wasn’t limited by the biology of the victim but their sexual orientation.”

He smiles, just a little. She’s talking science again, it’s a good sign.

Now she mentions it though, he does wish he’d gotten the chance to make Sif suffer for the mess she got them in. If they only still had the berserker staff on board, he might’ve managed to do her some real damage. She’s old school too: old tactics, old moves. A few surprise hits and he’d be taking the sword from her cold hand, giving it over to a smiling Lore-

He winces. No. He doesn’t want that. He _doesn’t_. Those aren’t his thoughts, they’re _hers_ , and he wants them  _out of his head_.

The punching bag downstairs is calling to him, but Simmons isn’t done with him yet.

“It wasn’t- I don’t _blame_ you. If I did, I wouldn’t-” She bites her lip and looks away. So much for not blaming him.

“Simmons,” he says, taking pity on the both of them. “It’s okay. I’ve already put in for a transfer and under the circumstances, it’s not like Coulson’s gonna-”

“No!” She’s at the edge of the catwalk, one hand gripping the railing like a vice. “You can’t- Ward, you can’t leave.”

He forces a smile. “I kinda think I have to.” He picks up one foot, down one step, then another.

“You can’t!” she cries. “Please. Grant, you ca-” She stops herself and he hears what can only be her ass hitting the mesh floor of the catwalk. And then he hears crying.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking - he’s _not_ thinking obviously, because anyone in his position with half a brain would’ve kept going. Down the stairs, through the lab, up the back stairs to get Fitz or Skye or even freaking Coulson - anyone to hold her other than the guy who’s the cause of all this.

She doesn’t seem bothered though. She buries her face in his shoulder and wraps her hands tight around his upper arm, holding him like she’s afraid he’ll come to his senses and run, like he’s a life preserver in a storm.

He doesn’t say anything. Any empty promises he could offer would be obvious lies and he’s done her enough damage without insulting her on top of it. So he just rubs the hand she isn’t cutting off circulation to up and down her back and shushes her. It’s the least he can do.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs once she’s settled some.

“No,” he says, “you deserved a good cry.”

“ _No_ ,” she snaps, fingers digging into his arm. “I’m _sorry_.” She blinks up at him. Her eyes are red and she looks like a mess, but underlining all of that is a guilt so heavy it knocks the breath right out of him. “I’m sorry,” she says again.

He moves his hand to her cheek, brushes back her hair and wipes the tears away. She leans into his touch, looking like she might cry again just from relief.

“It was her,” he says firmly. “It was Lorelei. It wasn’t you and it wasn’t me. It was her.”

Simmons nods and he pulls her into his chest, letting her cling to him there, on the edge of the catwalk, for as long as she likes. He holds her tight in return, hoping one day they’re both able to believe they’re not to blame for what was done to them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilery warning: Both Grant and Jemma were taken to Vegas by Lorelei and the above details their struggle coming to terms with what happened there.


End file.
